you'll either laugh or think I am awful, there's really no in-between.

I like cats and glasses and cats that wear glasses. I regularly fall asleep in my recliner with my mouth hanging open like an old lady. I love Doritos and don't know if I will ever have under a 10 minute mile. I work in customer service, I love to write, and sometimes I can be nice. Somehow, I'm a Christian-progressive-feminist that grew up deep in the hills of Appalachia. Keep reading! It'll be fun! Probably.

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Month: September 2016

Last week, I said I was going to start a weekly reflection series and I’m totally trying to stick with that. However, last week, I called it Sunday Morning Coffee Break, and I’m gonna be real — I’ve barely gotten out of bed until this evening. Not because of depression (as outlined in my last update), but because I decided to take the day for lazy. There’s nothing like doing literally nothing, and even though I’ve cooked two meals and been to Walmart, I’ve still had a solid reset which I desperately needed.

On Friday I started bi-weekly therapy and I feel really good about it. One of my biggest fears in talking to someone about my ‘problems’ is them thinking that my problems aren’t real or they are stupid. I hate feeling stupid. Ask Chad, ask anyone that knows me really well, I will NOT do anything that makes me feel dumb. It’s a huge complex that I have and it correlates with not being good at something (whatever the task may be). If I am not good at something, I will literally never try it again. It’s maddening. And silly.

Anyway, I can’t tell you how many times I said to my therapist, “I feel so stupid” and she would gently assure me that whatever I feel is valid, and it is certainly not stupid. I told her how difficult it is for me to be honest with people about what I struggle with because outwardly, I seem very together, and people often dismiss me and move on. That’s one of the most painful things you can ever deal with in mental illness and insecurities, someone saying, “What do you have to be so upset about?” — it feels like a knife in the chest, especially if you REALLY love that person. You honestly have no real idea what someone is struggling with internally, and a gentle, “I’m here for you” is far more beneficial than criticism and harsh words. Ahem.

I think therapy is going to be a really good thing. I am really trying to pull out of this awful depression place and for the last 3 days, I have felt more like myself. I have often thought that I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, because around the same time every year, when the sun sets earlier and the days get shorter (even slightly so), I tend to struggle. Hence the the reset today.

On September 1st, I started a bootcamp challenge with Jamison and Emma and I’m super pumped about it. I desperately want to master my macros, eat better more consistently, and learn some new workouts. The best news is, I haven’t blown it this weekend with my eating. I can work out and kill it, but my eating is an atrocity. Y’all. I absolutely love to eat, I can never tell you how much. Eating brings me so much happiness, especially when I am going through depression issues. It’s the only thing that clicks and even though I can make myself workout, I can’t make myself dial in my eating. So, making it through this whole weekend and staying within my guidelines has been super inspiring for me. I’m excited to wake up and destroy a workout in the morning. I also bought Oreos at the store, so what am I really even talking about?!

Honestly, I hope September is a touch more kind to me than August was. I struggled with a pulled muscle, depression, and just over all a bad month. So, I’m excited to see the calendar change and get another shot at the next 30 days. The first 4 days have been pretty stellar, so here’s hoping. Well. Other than Kentucky football. That’s enough to shove you into depression and make you drink, guys.

I often wonder what it’s like to love someone through depression. I thank my husband almost daily for sticking with me and never flinching at my darkest moments, my most graphic breakdowns, or when I just can’t participate in life. Still, I feel extremely selfish. I know that he loves me and even though I have always been clear about how unwell I can be, I feel selfish that such a good, kind-hearted person is stuck with me. He chose me, sure, but could he have really known how deep my depression can run? How debilitating my anxiety can be? There’s no way to understand the emotional cave that I back myself into, and most of the time, all he can do is watch it happen.

This might scare you, but I haven’t wanted to be alive for the last two weeks. I’ve tried, I’ve counted the reasons to stay on this Earth, and it always ends with me begging God to just take me. No, I don’t have a plan to commit suicide, I just don’t want to be here. I don’t want to wake up and go to my job, I don’t want to participate in social functions, I don’t want to do anything but lie in my bed and wait, knowing that if I didn’t wake up, I would be in a much better place. Still, it’s extremely scary to feel that way. I’m getting help, I’m praying, I’m adjusting medications. This is the truth of a chemical imbalance. Like it or not, you don’t have to believe in it and you can think I’m crazy, but this is my real life from time to time.

Still, it genuinely tugs on me when I think about what Chad sees. I’ve spent the majority of my teenage and adult life struggling with these feelings, but only for the last few years have I really considered how it impacts someone else. I’ve never thought about what it feels like for your spouse to look at you and admit that sometimes they don’t want to be alive. Chad knows me, he knows that if it went too far, I would reach out and ask him to help me, or to intervene. But, still. What a horrible blow to the stomach when someone you love is in so much pain and you can’t just fix it.

And really, that’s the thing. You can’t just fix it. You can only be patient and love someone through it. You can only be present, and say I love you, I’m here for you. The worst thing you can say is, “you’ll get over it” or “what do you even have to be sad about” — that doesn’t help. That makes it worse. For all the times someone has said that to me, it only makes my guilt dig a little deeper for being so broken. I will not ever feel like I deserve the unconditional love of someone as good as Chad, but I also very clearly realize he is mine because he can handle this. And I thank God for it.

For today, I am on the upswing. I don’t feel that vacant, empty feeling in my chest. I don’t feel the weight bearing down on me like a load of bricks stacked tall on my shoulders. I’m excited about the long weekend, I can’t wait to unwind and enjoy some time at home, and I’m hopeful this downward pattern will not continue. You must know that I don’t choose this. I would never wish these feelings on anyone, not even my worst enemy. If you are reading this and someone you love is suffering with depression, don’t give up on them. Speak gently, love fiercely, and know what they are going through bears no reflection on you or your relationship with them.